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#the sky is blue with a single cloud
blueiight · 1 year
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‘max’: the sky is blue with a single cloud, (1975) // interview with the vampire, ‘a vile hunger for your hammering heart’ (2022)
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betobetocore · 2 years
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Redraw of a page in The Sky is Blue with a Single Cloud by Kuniko Tsurita
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toomanylegos · 7 months
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It's one of them "enjoy sky blue" kinda days
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tracydeadly · 1 year
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yeap it was with a single brush… 1 hour
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⌭ ı ɱıʂʂ ɬɧɛ ცƖųɛ ʂƙყ [ms paint] 💙🎐🌀
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lunarsapphism · 2 years
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its cold here today but this is the first time ive seen the sky in months :]
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chevvy-yates · 2 years
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winter time sadness.
#rant i guess#everything i do lately doesn't bring me joy#i feel ignored on every platform#i have no vigor to interact either#and feel bad about this too#bc I want to talk to people#and at the same time it feels like people don't want to talk to me#the short days make me tired way too early#so i get the feeling I'm missing out everything bc most people are awake when I sleep#that said I'm awake too early also not knowing what to do#work is a pain in the ass#i don't have any vigor to work either#I don't have any to do new pics bc it feels like I'm stuck#no one is saying anything about it#bc they look boring#and every time i try to make something more interesting i feel it goes into the opposite direction#this alltime cloudy weather outsides is pissing me off#it feels like this years jan and feb only its just nov and dec#no sun no blue sky not a single nice sunny day since weeks#just clouds and rain and clouds and rain and clouds and rain#I can't stand this - i need sun damnit#i want to take my bike and feel the air be outside but with tihs? I can only sit at home going slowly mad#and having my body ache everywhere including headaches#I hate winter so much and everyone else be like: aaah winnter christmas love friends#yeah not for me …#it's just a fucking huge depression time#and to know that my birthday is alway around this time of the year makes it only worse#3 days before christmas - never a chance to celebrate it bc everyone is too busy#christmas with family is alright#silvester is another pain in the ass
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lostbluejayart · 11 months
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✨A gentle lamb bleats in a single call, sweetly, meekly. The wind carries its voice through the fluttering of leaves and over mountain tops, across meadows where baby deer dwell under the shadow of their mothers.
Precious lambs you are, Sweet whispers...✨
[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Two beautiful dark skinned sisters who are twins are seen looking softly at the viewer, resting in a meadow like area. They are wearing long white dresses. with short puffy sleeves on their shoulders. One sister relaxes her head on her sister's lap while the other supports her sisters head. A little baby lamb also lay beside the twins, one ear up while the other ear is down. The lamb's white wool almost blends into the white dress's the sisters are wearing. In the background,the sky is a soft shade of baby blue, no clouds are visible. And there is a mountain in the background that stretches to both sides of the picture and a few trees at a distance.]
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voluntary-necrosis · 1 year
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It’s easy to forget how beautiful our world is
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New Audio: Harrison Teams Up with Nanna B. on Soulful and Ethereal "Blue Sky"
New Audio: Harrison Teams Up with Nanna B. on Soulful and Ethereal "Blue Sky" @prodbyharrison @LastGangEnt @grandstandhq @jaclynulman @LoBudgetChild
Harrison Robinson, best known as the mononymic Harrison is a 27-year-old, acclaimed Toronto-based jazz and R&B composer, musician and producer got his start making beats and uploading sample-heavy songs on SoundCloud, where he found a following and global community of like-minded producers and collaborators including Ryan Hemsworth, Star Slinger, and a list of others.  His first two critically…
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targs-on-zorses · 2 months
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Sweet Favours
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Pairing - Gwayne Hightower/Lady-in-Waiting!Reader Warnings - Nice, hot smut, mild choking, fingering, some riding, gwayne being cocky, a little bit of fluff, tourneys and jousting, a little bit of blood, reader is not described in any detail other than being of House Mullendore of Uplands Summary - “If I might request a favour, my lady.” “Hmm, and what sort of favour would that be, good knight.” “Mayhaps, a sweet kiss from those lovely lips, dear lady.” Word count: 4732
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A/N - Wow. I genuinly cannot believe I have finished this. I started it not long after Ser Gwayne Hightower graced our screens, and it is now, what? two? three weeks later? I would like to thank my hype-people: @thenameswinter99 whose reactions to my tiny excerpts made my day, @barbieaemond, Liv my partner in crime who has assisted in fanning the flames with this fic, and @just-some-random-blogger. We will continue to torture you with gifs. Accept it. This is your life now. And also to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for beta reading. Dividers are mine own. It is possible there will be a part 2.  (the fic will be up on AO3 shortly. Use the link in my masterlist)
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Good weather for a tourney, you thought. Nary a cloud in the sky, the bright sun beating down on the cobblestone path leading to the arena. The sounds of blades being sharpened and hammers striking on metal. There was a buzz of excitement in the air. It had been some years since Oldtown had hosted a tourney of its own. But now, the seats had been cleaned, the lords box furnished. Bunting linked building to building along the narrow streets of Oldtown. 
It had been some years since you, as lady-in-waiting to Lady Lynesse Hightower, had last attended a tourney. You peeked out of the carriage, watching as people streamed towards the arena, some carrying flags in every shape and colour. 
A raven had arrived from Kings Landing a month ago, bearing the news that the Queen, Alicent Hightower, cousin of your lord, had given birth to another son, Aemond Targaryen. Lord Ormund had decided to host a tourney in his honour, although none of the royals, nor their immediate vassals, were able to make it.
The carriage stopped at the entrance to the stadium. You stepped out of the carriage, graciously accepting the hand of the squire waiting, lifting your skirts to keep them out of the dirt on the streets. Your lady followed behind you.
A handsome young knight stood at the entrance. You smiled, admiring his pleasant features, the warm blue eyes, the bow shaped lips, soft golden hair.
“Good morrow, cousin,” Lady Hightower greeted.
“Good morrow, my Lady,” the knight responded. “Perfect day for a joust, is it not?”
“It is,” Lady Lynesse concurred. “I wish you luck, good cousin, at the lists.”
“Thank you, my Lady.”
Ser Gwayne bowed, stepping aside to let the lady pass. 
As you passed him yourself, curtseying briefly, he put out a hand to stop you.
“A moment, Lady Mullendore.”
You followed him inside, cloistered in a hidden alcove right by the doors. 
“If I might request a favour, my Lady.” He had that grin on his face that suggested his thoughts were anything but innocent. Not that the way he said ‘my Lady’ had you thinking innocent thoughts either, as you clenched your thighs together at his words.
“Hmm, and what sort of favour would that be, good knight?” you said, smiling sweetly. 
“Mayhaps, a sweet kiss from those lovely lips, dear lady.”
“Oh, you are most bold, good ser,” you giggled, feeling your cheeks redden at his words. And that little smirk that he always seemed to have plastered on his face. Seven save you, you loved that smirk.
A small group of people squeezed past the opening you were concealed in. So you stretched up, and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. Then you turned away to rejoin your lady.
A hand grasped your arm, pulling you back into the shadows.
“Gwayne!” you chastised. “I must return to my-”
His hand snaked around your waist, tugging you up against his body. A single finger lifted your chin, angling your face towards his, and he stared hungrily at your lips. He bit his lip, moving his hand to grasp your chin, running a thumb over your parted lips.
“Not that sort of kiss,” he whispered, seductively.
Then his lips were on yours. This was no gentle kiss, like the ones exchanged so early in the mornings. Sweet it was not. He pulled your face to his, pushing his tongue into your mouth. His hand tightened at your waist. 
Your hands stretched up, tangling themselves in his soft, golden hair. Your heart pounded in time to the movements of his tongue. He tasted of the sweet wine he liked, probably drinking small amounts to calm his nerves before the joust. 
He pushed forwards, backing you into a wall, completely devouring your mouth., pressing the evidence of his own arousal into your thigh. A moan escaped you. Seven save you, this kiss…
He pulled away abruptly, swiping his thumb over your lips again before departing with a satisfied smirk on his face.
He vanished so quickly, it took a moment for your body and mind to catch up. You raised a hand to your lips, remembering the passionate way he claimed them. 
Voices sounded just outside, and you remembered where you were.
Lady Hightower would be looking for you. You could only pray she had no idea what you had just been doing. You straightened your skirts and hair as best you could, and made your way to the Lords’ box overlooking the arena.
“Where have you been?” she snapped as you hurriedly entered and found your seat.
“My apologies, my lady,” you muttered, but she had already looked away.
You sat in the front row. Whether that was a blessing or a curse, you did not yet know.
From here, you could see everything. You would be able to see if he was hurt. Or killed.
You did not want to dwell on it. 
The knights paraded and preened. You knew half of them were not worth the armour they wore. 
“The Tyrells sent a measly bunch,” Lady Lynesses muttered to another lady. You did not disagree. 
“Hmm, it does not look like we will have much entertainment, my Lady,” another woman said.
You ignored them and watched as the jousts commenced. However, they were not wrong.
In the very first tilt, a young Tyrell squire not only knocked his opponent off his horse, but himself as well. Later, a Blackbar knight cuffed himself round the head with his own mace.
A measly lot indeed.
A brief lunch of venison was served. No sign of any of those veteran knights yet, though. 
By the afternoon, you were bored. The morning had been relatively uneventful, lunch equally so. You were eager for the new round of tilts to begin. And to see who would be crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty.
A few unimpressive knights rode out, bashing each other.
Finally, he rode out, sat proud atop that big black horse of his. His helmet was off, tucked under his arm, letting his golden hair shine in the sunlight. He held his lance in the other hand, meaning all that kept him on that horse were those strong thighs of his. You flushed, thinking of how it felt to have those thighs under you as you rode him into oblivion.
He rode twice around the arena, scanning the crowds. His eyes searched for you. Finally, he stopped in front of the box, beckoning you over with a movement of his head. You stood to lean against the barrier keeping you from falling onto the sand below.
“May I ask that you grant me your favour, Lady Mullendore?” he said, a graceful smile dancing across his face. You did not see the sour look Lady Hightower directed at you.
“Unfortunately, good ser, my favour is only given to those who will win,” you teased.
“Then I suppose it is a good thing I will win this tourney, then, my Lady,” he assured.
You giggled, taking your favour from the arm of your chair. He tilted his lance towards you and you dropped the favour along its length. He nodded his head in thanks and rode off again.
He prepared himself for the first tilt, putting on his silly helmet - you always giggled when he wore it. 
His opponent prepared himself similarly, some knight of House Florent. A cousin, perhaps?
You held your breath as they charged towards each other. You knew Gwayne had been injured previously in jousts. He was well now, but still, you worried. 
You wanted to look away, but you could not tear your gaze away from these two men, charging towards each other, lances held at the ready.
There was a crack, and the Florent knight went flying off his horse, landing with his legs at strange angles on the ground.
Gwayne rode a victory lap as the young knight was carried off to the maester’s tent.
As his next opponent struggled to get on his horse, Gwayne nodded to you, promising you victory. 
He unhorsed every opponent he faced with practised ease. Downing the ones that dared to try for victory on the ground. He certainly was bashed a few times, almost, almost, downed from his horse at others. But today it seemed the Gods themselves too had blessed him with their favour. 
The final tilt, however, you would deny you were terrified. For now he faced your own uncle, Ser Paxton Mullendore, a hardened veteran of many a battle and many a tourney. In fact, he was near undefeated, and would tell anyone who would listen that the only man to successfully unhorse him had been Daemon Targaryen at the Heirs Tourney some years ago. Gwayne too had been there, and Daemon too had unhorsed him. 
Suffice to say, you feared for him. 
You could see Ser Paxton glaring at him, and the favour on his lance. He knew it was yours, and he was displeased. 
Ser Paxton pulled down his visor and charged. Gwayne too. You gripped the hands of your chair tightly, hardly daring to breathe.
The crash of lance on shield. Gwayne barely clung to his horse, his lance in pieces.
They went in for a second charge.
Another crash.
This time it was Ser Paxton who fell. He immediately called for his sword. His pride would not allow Gwayne to win so easily. In fact, he often boasted of how he was better with his sword than atop a horse. Ser Paxton wielded a mighty mace, the sort of one you had seen bend swords and smash armour such that it looked as though a dragon had landed on their chests. 
You clung tighter to the decorative arms of your chair, eyes wide and fearful.
Gwayne did not notice, still holding his shield, arms wide and savouring his victory.
Paxton swung his mace.
“Gwayne!” you screamed. He turned to find a mace flying towards his head and ducked at the last moment.
Your relief was short-lived, as Paxton swung again, shattering Gwayne’s shield to splinters, your brave knight falling to the floor.
He dodged again and again, crawling towards the wooden barrier in the middle.
As Paxton smashed through the fence, Gwayne stuck his foot out, tripping up the large, mace-wielding man.
Ser Paxton fell to the ground unmoving. You gasped, staring in horror even as the crowd cheered. Even Gwayne was concerned, his fingers digging through the neck piece, trying to find a pulse.
Suddenly, Paxton jerked, sitting up. You breathed a sigh of relief. He and Gwayne seemed to talk for a moment before the latter pulled the former to his feet.
You smiled and clapped, overjoyed that both were alive.
Gwayne helped your uncle to the maesters, before mounting his horse once again for a victory lap. He was handed back his lance, now adorned with the wreath of yellow roses, the colours of House of Tyrell, their overlords.
He galloped twice around again, the ladies whispering to themselves, “Who will he choose?” He finally stopped in front of you, angling his lance such that the wreath slid down into your lap.
Suddenly, every eye was on you. Murmurs spread around the stadium. Gwayne still sat atop his horse below you, giving a gentle smile and an encouraging nod. 
You ignored the hiss of displeasure from Lady Hightower, and raised the flower crown, placing it on your head. The crowd cheered and clapped, and Ser Gwayne bowed before riding away to have his own wounds seen to.
The tourney over, the audience gathered themselves and prepared to leave.
You rushed off, partly to avoid whatever withering words the other ladies-in-waiting had to say to you, but mostly to avoid the wrath of Lady Lynesse Hightower. The look on her face as you had been crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty was one you hoped to never see again.
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You had arrived in Oldtown at ten, ready to serve Lady Lynesse as a lady-in-waiting. But from the moment you were introduced to her by your father, Lord Mullendore, she had shown nothing but contempt that bordered on hatred for you.
When your father presented you, she had her nose up at you and said, “Well, I was not expecting her to be so… plain. I was told you were a great beauty. Perhaps you will grow into one.”
But, according to her, you could do nothing right. In the halls of the Hightower, you were alone and friendless. The other ladies followed Lynesse’ lead and scorned you. You missed your home, Uplands. You missed your family, your father, your mother, your brothers, and uncle Paxton, although he visited often. You sought companionship in the books in Oldtown’s many libraries. You engrossed yourself in the history and giggled as you read books like A Caution for Young Girls as you read it in the privacy of your chambers. 
It was when you were eight-and-ten that you attracted the attention of Ser Gwayne Hightower, your Lady’s cousin and the son of King Viserys’ Hand. 
Initially, you had waved it off as just some silly pacing fancy, after all, knights had that all the time. After all, as your lady said, cruelly, “What man could possibly want such a plain girl as you?”
But he was honest in his interest, and the two of you began to court, secretly of course. Lady Hightower would have a fit, and she was most fond of suggesting other women for him, though he always refused.
It was on the night of your twentieth name day that he took you into his bed. He was careful, and gentle, and everything you had imagined and more. The both of you knew Lady Hightower would never let you wed, so these stolen, secret moments were all you had.
You loved him, you knew it. How could you not when he was gentle, and kind, and every bit the knight he was painted to be?
What you did not know, however, was if he felt the same about you. He may call you, “my love,” but that was not the same.
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You quietly made your way to Gwayne’s chambers. It would not do if you were caught together. Lady Hightower would use it as an excuse to get rid of you. It simply was not worth the same and disgrace that would fall on your family.
Today, he had already gone too far. You intended to tell him as much. Kissing you just before the tourney in an alcove where anyone could’ve peeked in and seen you? Crowning you Queen of Love and Beauty in front of thousands?
Perhaps, though, you would scold him after you lay with him. As dangerous as that kiss was, it had left you unsatisfied and wanting for more. And it would butter him up and make him more agreeable to slowing down.
You walked in, expecting to find the room empty, only to see Gwayne standing with his back to the door, sipping some wine. You spotted his armour peeking out of a chest to the side of the wine table.
He turned as the door closed, his eyes darkening as he beheld the low dress you wore. You had been tugging it down as you made your way here.
He was still wearing his green woollen tunic that he wore under his armour. The buckles were undone, as was the loose linen shirt he wore under that.
He took another sip of wine, tilting his head as he admired you. He placed the glass back on the table, and took a step towards you.
You were withering under his heated gaze, but you stood firm. He liked to tease. Now it was your turn.
“I was going to wait for you,” you said, the corners of your plush lips lifting flirtatiously. “I was thinking I’d lay naked in your bed.”
Gwayne smirked. “Such a shame, then, that I’m already here. It would have been a most delectable sight to behold.”
That way he said delectable, pronouncing every syllable, had you biting your lip an effort not to moan. A wave of need coursed through you..
He stepped towards you again, still giving you that smirk that made you want to rip your clothes off and let him give you exactly what you longed for.
“Perhaps I’ll leave and come back later, leave early from the feast,” you whispered, all desire to tease rushing out of you. You did not know how much longer you could keep this up.
“It would be a shame if you had to walk all the way back down, leaving me here alone and wanting for you,” he rasped, his voice going deep with desire.
“Like the way you left me earlier.” You tried not to moan as you felt his breath on your neck.
“Would you touch yourself while naked in my bed?” he hummed, a hand ghosting over your cheek. “Would you pleasure yourself, imagining that it was my cock that brought you to peak?”
You no longer knew words. Seven save you from this man and his vile tongue that made you feel nothing but insatiable lust. 
“And would I then arrive, finding you covered in a sheen of sweat, and then would I plunge myself inside your sweet cunt until the only thing you can remember is my name?”
You let out a whine at his words. He teased you relentlessly, barely touching you. You reached out to grasp his solid arms, trying to pull him closer. You wanted him to touch you, badly. 
“Gwayne,” you whine, the heated tension becoming unbearable.
“Yes, sweet lady?” he says, licking his lips. “Is it all too much, this teasing? Not unlike the way you have teased me all day wearing a dress such as this.” He tugs on the laces on the front of your dress making you gasp. “What is it, my love?” he says as he ghosts his lips over your neck again. You let out an aching whine. You were desperate for him to do anything, anything but keep on talking. “What? You want me to stop?” he says. Yes. You wanted him to stop teasing you with his filthy words. You wanted him to push you on his bed and strip you of your restrictive clothing. You wanted him to fuck you mercilessly until all you know is his cock. He chuckled darkly, seeing your pained expression. “Look at you, so needy.” You whimpered again. He finished unlacing your gown, finding you wearing no corset or smallclothes underneath it. You gulped, feeling the sensitive tips of your breasts brush against the cloth of your dress with every breath. “Oh, you naughty lady, wearing nothing under such a dress.” 
You give up. You can’t take it anymore. You need to touch him. You need him to touch you.  You grab his face between your hands and pull it to yours. The kiss is messy and filthy, and oh so terribly brief. He pushed you off him, holding your face between his hands, panting just as wildly as you. You whined desperately, straining to pull him back
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he growled.
Then he pounced. He tore the dress off your shoulder letting your breasts free. He gripped your face and pulled your lips back together. He shoved his tongue into your mouth, hot and wet. You shimmied out of your dress, leaving yourself bare. He cupped his hands around your behind, squeezing as he lifted you up and spread your legs around his waist. You ground against his clothed cock, sighing into his mouth as little sparks of bliss shot through you.
He carried you to the bed, divesting himself of his tunic, still continuing his relentless assault of your mouth. He withdrew gently, a stark contrast to the violent way he had kissed you, resting his forehead on yours. 
“Touch me,” you whispered, tugging at his shirt, silently begging him to take it off. 
He ignored your tugs, and latched his lips to the peak of your breast, as his hand worked its way between your legs, gently brushing your pearl. You moaned loudly, fingers clenching the silk sheet beneath. His fingers were pure heaven. You pulled again at his shirt, as his fingers entered your cunt, opening you up for him, skillfully brushing the spot inside you that made you keen. You clutched his arms, your nails digging into the flesh leaving angry red marks.
“Fuck, my love, you feel so good and wet,” he panted, trailing hot, wet kisses to your neck. “Fuck yourself on my fingers, sweet lady.”
And you did. You rode them, broken moans and whimpers spilled out of you. Your peak washed over you quickly, his fingers pumping in and out of you, drawing it out. 
He didn’t give you long to recover from the intensity of your peak. He allowed you to pull his shirt off, revelling in the pale expanse of muscle, and the few scars that litter his chest and stomach. You pressed a few kisses to the ones on his chest before he pushed you back down and started untying his breeches. 
“Keep yourself wet for me, sweet lady. Touch yourself.”
You moaned, doing as he says and letting your fingers gather up the wetness from your centre, preparing yourself for him.
He pushed his breeches down revealing his beautiful cock, hard and red. You took your hand, slick with your juices and pumped him a few times. But when you went to put it inside, he stopped you, sitting up further, leaving his cock far away from where you craved to sheethe it.
“Ah ah ah,” he tutted. “Only good, sweet ladies get to be fucked. Have you been good, sweet lady?”
“Yes,” you moaned. “Please, Gwayne, please, I've been good.”
He continued to stroke his cock, right in front of you. You groaned. He so loved to torment you like this. “Have you? Really?”
“I've been good, Ser. Please, let me have your cock, Ser!” You babbled, delirious with need, your hands reaching out for him. 
“Hmm, I suppose you have been,” He said, and suddenly leaned forward and slid his cock into your drenched cunt. 
You moaned in unison. The walls of your cunt stretched to accommodate him. Gwayne was by no means large, but he always seemed to fill you up perfectly. It was heaven, finally having him inside.
He gave you a moment to adjust, waiting for you to nod that you were comfortable, before he seized a hand, holding it above your head and pounded into you, mercilessly. 
Your breasts bounced, brushing your sensitive nipples on his chest. Wanton moans spilled out of you now. Every thrust of his cock hit the perfect spot inside you.
“That's it,” he whispered into your ear, lightly biting the flesh below it. “You feel so good, my dear, squeezing my cock like that.”
All coherent words had left you, and you could only babble in agreement. 
“Gods you feel so good, such a sweet, wet little cunt.”
Your moans grew louder, and you clung hard to his shoulders. You probably left nail marks in his back, but you were too lost in your pleasure to care. 
The walls of your cunt fluttered, signifying that you were close. Your moans became louder and higher in pitch. 
“That's it, sweetness,” Gwayne grunted, shifting so he could watch your face as you came. “Come for me, right on my cock.”
He brought a hand between you, rubbing your pearl. 
Your walls clenched around him as you screamed, you back arching. 
He wrapped a hand around your neck, holding you down as he fucked you through your peak, his own quickly following as he spilled inside you. 
He collapsed on the bed next to you.
You both lay there for a moment, catching your breath. You rolled over to look at him. He never looked more beautiful than he did in this moment. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead and chest. His bow shaped lips were parted. His chest heaved.
You loved him. There was nothing else. You loved how he looked in the moments after. 
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You lay on your sides, facing each other. Your hands entwined as you stared deep into each other's eyes. His were blue, like the sea, and always glinted with mischief. 
“I have something for you,” he rasped. His voice was always delightfully husky after you fucked. You loved it, and the way it left you wanting for more.
“Gwayne,” you sighed, “we can’t.” 
This was a rule established early on, no gifts to be exchanged, and today, he’d already broken it, gifting you the flower crown. 
“No one will know it was from me,” he insisted. You took one look at his pouty face, his eyes wide and pleading. He knew how to make you melt, and melt you did. He just looked so sad, like a puppy pleading for pets.
“Fine,” you conceded. 
He smiled wide, and rolled over to grab something from the bedside table. He brought out a box. It was wide and flat, covered in green leather with silver hinges and clasp.
You sat up a little, leaning on your elbow, and took the box from him. 
You opened the box and gasped. Inside was the most exquisite necklace you’d ever seen.
The shape of it reminded you of how the beacon on the Hightower looked when alight. Green emeralds the size of your thumbs arranged in three seven pointed stars connected to a chain of intricate silver swirls. The two stars on either side of the middle contained a ruby at their hearts, while the centre one, and the larger of the three, framed a diamond, larger than any you had ever seen.
“Oh, Gwayne, it’s beautiful.”
He smiled. “Let me help you put it on, my love.”
You turned slightly, lifting your hair as he clasped it around your neck. You turned back to look at him, adjusting the way it lay across your chest.
“Hmm,” he hummed, openly staring at the way the centre charm sat right between your breasts, pointing downwards. “I think I rather like it too.”
You giggled, trying to ignore the heat that spread through your body at his words, and his gaze. You could now understand why it was designed the way it was.
“I think I’d like to fuck you wearing that necklace,” he said. “Hmm, perhaps I’d like you to ride me, so I can watch it bounce on those pretty breasts of yours.”
You bit your lip at his filthy words, heat already pooling in your gut. 
He gripped your hips, and you squealed as he lifted you onto his thighs, cock half hard already.
He plunged his hand between your legs, groaning at the feeling of your wetness. 
“Ride me, my sweet lady,” he commanded.
You gave his cock a good few pumps, before you sunk down, moaning at the stretch. His hands dug into your hips as you began to move, circling your hips.
You went slowly at first. Gwayne seemed to groan in frustration at your pace. You grinned, knowing how much you teased him now.
“I do not think this is quite riding me, sweet lady,” Gwayne grunted beneath you. He smacked your behind, the sharp pain and pleasure of it making you cry out. “Come now, love, ride me. Fuck yourself on my cock and let me watch those gorgeous sweet tits of yours.”
You did as he commanded, quickening your pace and truly fucking yourself on him. 
Your tits bounced, the necklace clinking with the movement. You moaned, relishing in the way his cock felt. 
He reached his hand up, cupping your bouncing breasts and letting your vigorous movements rub your sensitive nipples on his thumb. 
Your walls clenched around him. Your peak was approaching, fast. 
“That's it, love,” he groaned. “Fuck!”
You threw your head back as your peak washed over you, your pace stuttering as you attempted to ride him through it. 
He gripped your hips and rutted into you, a fourth peak closing in so soon after the last. 
You peaked, feeling his seed coat the walls of your cunt as you screamed his name and collapsed on his chest.
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blueiight · 1 year
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And, diary, you'd think a girl whose mama died in childbirth... whose daddy gave her away to a mean old auntie who beat her 'cause no one said she couldn't, who died in a fire but came back by the blood magic of two demons, well, you'd think that girl wouldn't know what funny was. But you'd be wrong, diary. And if I told you, dumb diary, that that same girl was being raised to kill like her demon parents did, to take two souls a day so she could stay in the same flat-chested, hairless-crotched 14-year-old baby doll body as her mind and spirit turn 19, 20, 25, 63, 358, you dumb, dumb diary, I bet you'd say to anyone who'd listen, "Fun? Fun? How does she even get up in the morning?" Well, let me tell you something, you stuck-up, flower-covered, three-dollar fancy fսcking paper diary, I'm doin' just fine.
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stsgluver · 1 year
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synopsis. your husband still ignores the side effects of his cursed technique just so he can get a glimpse of you.
wc. 1.2k
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gojo satoru was born with six eyes — a special cursed technique that allowed for an extremely precise manipulation of cursed energy, down to an atomic level. it also blessed him with a beautiful pair of ocean blue eyes that were practically glowing. you’d never seen eyes so pretty.
the drawback to this gift? the skull-splitting migraines that came with the excessive information constantly being processed by his darting eyes.
as a child, the pain was manageable. gojo didn’t have much of a hold on the technique so his weaker state meant that the migraines were subdued as less information was being absorbed. however, as he grew older and more powerful, he would find himself bed ridden for at least twenty four hours if he did not take some sort of measure to protect his eyes.
his go to method was the sunglasses, almost 100% tinted — no other person would be able to clearly see out of them, if they could see anything at all. his sight, on the other hand, so impressive that he could distinguish people and the objects around them through the levels of cursed energy radiated.
still, accidents happened. whether it be him breaking his glasses, or forgetting them as young children do, he quickly learned the drawbacks to his technique. no normal medicine could relieve the pain and no sorcerer was strong enough to either.
gojo satoru met you at fifteen years old on his first day at tokyo jujutsu high. you wore a uniform similar to shoko's but your skirt was closer to the floor than it was to your thigh. your hair was longer than most female sorcerers and tied into a plait that hung against your back. in all honesty, you appeared quite plain to him. nothing particularly stood out. not even your cursed energy was particularly strong.
but you were gorgeous. completely and utterly gorgeous. his glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he analysed you from afar and it wasn't till a slap on the shoulder from geto that he snapped out of it.
within six months of knowing one another, the two of you were dating. you picked up on his habit to forgo his glasses around you pretty quickly and you definitely didn't miss the increasing amount of discomfort that would cause him.
"why do you do that?" you asked him one time.
the two of you were on a date in the park. a picnic blanket had been laid out and satoru had bought basically every single pastry and sweet at the bakery next to the park. you'd barely managed to make it through half till the both of you had given up and opted for cloud watching, giggling as he joked that one cloud in particularly looked very similar to nanami's 'emo' haircut.
satoru turned to his side to look at you questioningly, his head resting on his hand, "do what?"
"take off your glasses," you gestured to the folded pair of black glasses by his head. "i don't have to be a doctor to realise that you're in a lot of pain right now." the longer you lay there, the less satoru was actually looking up at the sky, instead just listening to you as you pointed out shapes and animals.
you knew the toll six eyes could take on his body.
he kept his eyes screwed shut when he wasn't looking at you to ease the the pain from the intense light that was too overpowering for his splitting headache. he winced when a kid screamed too loudly or ran too close and his fingers would push against the sides of his head frustratedly. as if he thought hard enough, the pain would just go away.
his lips tilted up into a lopsided grin, "but i see you."
you twisted so that your body was parallel to his. there was a faint blush on your cheeks now but you didn't look away from his eyes. how could you? "you always see me."
"not with those stupid glasses," satoru frowned, and you think it was the most serious you had seen him since you met. "seeing you and seeing your energy are two very different things."
"you're hurting yourself," you pointed out, placing one of your hands onto his cheek to gently stroke your thumb against his skin. his shoulders relaxed slightly and he leant into your touch like it was magic. like you were some drug that numbed the pain, replacing it with a special serotonin only you could give him.
"worth it." satoru kissed your palm.
that was his only response. worth it. and he stuck to it even a decade later.
"old habits die hard, i guess," satoru tried to laugh at his poorly made joke, but only a few shakey breaths came out. you'd been home thirty minutes and he'd already been sick twice. he'd curled himself up in your shared bed not long after the second time and that was where he was when you began scolding him for his carelessness.
"you are twenty eight," you rant exasperatedly, juxtaposing your voice that is no louder than a gentle whisper, "you have three first years to be looking after right now, but no, someone wanted to go out for dinner and someone didn't want to wear their glasses, and someone-"
satoru's much larger hand squeezed yours, "don't be cruel. i do this for you, my love." his blindfold was now on (you had made him put it on as soon as you had gotten home) but you know him well enough to know he was staring up at you with those lovesick eyes that made you weak at the knees.
"i just worry," your tone eased. you had no issue looking after your husband, you never had. it wasn't his fault that he got the migraines per se. yes, he could definitely be doing more to mitigate the severity, but he was stubborn. that had never changed. "i've seen you fight special grades. i hate seeing a stupid headache hurt you so much."
"lay with me."
"you're sweaty and sick." you scrunched up your nose, eyes flicking to the en suite you'd just cleaned and back to the cold flannel on his forehead as his body temperature fluctuated.
he shook his head, placing his index finger over his lips. "shhh, i'm passed that stage. pretty please? i need you."
gojo satoru was irresponsible at the best of times. he'd been raised to believe he was invincible and had been spoiled to always get what he had wanted. there was no telling him what to do when he'd already decided an hour ago exactly what he wanted to do.
but there was something about being needed by gojo satoru. you could never say no to him. so whether it be due to his own decision to stare into the eyes of his wife during a romantic night out, or an extensive fight against a cursed spirit, you would always be there to clean up and make sure he was wrapped up in bed all cosy.
and you would always lift up the covers and climb in once there was no more that you could do but simply act as a pillow for your husband as he tried to sleep off the throbbing pain.
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a/n. um so my previous post on this topic blew up and i’m so so grateful so i thought i’d expand a little on this hc for anyone that was interested. rambled a bit towards the end but i hope you still like it!! love you lots xxx
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soullessdianthus · 1 year
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𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 | 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐱 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠)
Summary: During the mission somewhere in Austria, König takes an interest in TF 141 medic. Little did he know, she's Lieutenants Riley's girlfriend.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐
A/N: Possessive/Protective boyfriend Ghost? Yes, double and give to the next person. Also inserted Hank/Connor "lieutenant" reference, I just find it funny. Y/C ━ Your Codename (have fun, pick something babes) Poorly translated German ━ correct me if needed!
Warnings: nothing, reader is eastern european coded (we deserve more recognition as reader inserts ꃋᴖꃋ )
Word count: 1.8k
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The tree line of the thick forest melted into the base of the rocky mountains. Your gaze traveled across its pointy shapes and up higher - there hadn’t been a single cloud on the sky that day, causing a slight heatwave.
You let your body slightly wag as the car passed over surface bumps on the earthen road. The dry lump grew in your throat as the dust hovered all over the convoy and all you could think of was a sip of cold, mineral water. 
Soon, you reached the small town in Austria, secluded from the ring roads. The cars were parked near the surrounding forest at the entrance of the village. Lieutenant Riley's sight crossed with yours as he helped you get out of the truck. 
He could be such a gentleman sometimes. 
A handful of soldiers gathered near the vehicles - some of them wearing a KorTac patch on their shoulders, the other ones (from your unit) a Task Force 141 badge. But besides those sigils, none of them were wearing full battle gear. 
There was no active fighting against the enemy at the moment. It was just a careful chase after the terrorists - following their footsteps, interviewing associates, gathering proof. Because at the end of the day, the military (or army related organization) cannot shed blood over a defamation.
But KorTac and TF 141? Quite an unusual partnership between the two groups, right?
━ Ghost, Y/C you’re goin’ with me ━ Captain Price announced, adjusting his hat as he closed the car’s doors behind him. ━ Gaz, you’ll stay here, is that clear? 
Captain heard a firm ‘yes, sir’ from your teammate Kyle who was to stay at the parking spot. Meanwhile the KorTac colonel gave an order to his soldiers in German. “Such a tough language” you thought to yourself. Only two of his people went along the wood road with the rest of you.
The Colonel. 
Exceptionally tall, Austrian man who served many years for his country. The one you found yourself in on the latest mission. 
Each time you wanted to look at him while Colonel König was speaking, you had to chin up. And even though, a black hood with a red paint on it covered his whole face besides his cold, blue eyes. He was lowkey intimidating with his massive size, but just like your captain, the Austrian’s rough looks didn’t reflect his character. At least to you and your comrades he was quite nice. 
Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same about his teammates. 
You didn’t have to walk for long as the isolated, one floor house emerged behind a hill. By the quick peek at that building and the noises coming from the inside you knew, it felt like a warm home. 
As you approached the building, you heard a child’s cry. 
Price knocked at the front door and soon after a man with dark bags under his eyes opened them slightly. He was peeking through the crack.
━ Jakob Hausner? ━ The Captain asked with a playful smile under his mustache, his thumbs interlocked with the gear straps over his chest. 
━ Ja, wie kann ich helfen? [ger.: Yes, how can I help?]
━ Can you ask him if he speaks english? ━ John looked over his shoulder towards König, asking for a favor. 
━ Yes, I speak english ━ master of the house answered with a thick accent, before colonel could translate. ━ What do you want? 
He wasn’t trusting at all, well, how could he? You were all strangers at his doorsteps, two of your partners wearing scary looking masks. But it all had a purpose - they were supposed to look… intimidating, yes? 
A loud wailing made their ears hurt, it was that damn baby again. Jakob sighed loudly, his shoulder collapsing as he opened the doors a little bit more.
━ We just want to talk about the company you were working for. ━ Price continued talking. 
━ About them again? ━ Mr. Hausner frowned his eyebrows and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Poor man was exhausted apparently. ━ Okay, okay, ja, come in. 
The man let you all inside, however König told his soldiers to have a look outside the plot - to make sure it’s safe here and you’re not being watched. Poor Jakob wasn’t even fully aware (because of his state) that he let in a group of military people inside of his home.
As soon as you crossed the hallway into the dining room with a big, wooden table, you noticed a struggling toddler in a children’s chair. The girl was crying, her face red from the tantrum. 
━ I’m sorry, it’s just my daughter, she… she doesn’t want to eat her–. Lina, bitte. [ger.: Lina, please.]
Being a parent. Must be tough, huh?
Not when you were forced to babysit your siblings or cousins since you were a teenager. 
━ She’s not hungry. ━ You noticed the way the little girl pushed her plate away and how she tried to climb out of the seat. Christ, that man really had to be exhausted. ━ Can I?
You took a few slow and calm steps towards the sitting child - a warm smile painted over your face. Even your boyfriend Ghost was slightly… surprised? Seeing you drop the apathetic shell, then becoming more warm and gentle towards the little girl.
━ She’s our medic ━ your Captain explained to the worried father ━ let her take the kid and we’ll have a talk. In peace. 
Mr. Hausner let you take care of his unsettled daughter, so they could have a conversation about his former employers. You took the girl out of her chair and placed her over your left hip, pushing it outward. 
━ Come, Lina ━ you addressed the girl by her name, even though she probably couldn’t understand what you were saying ━ let’s leave the stinky men alone, ja?
You left the dining room and entered the seemingly endless garden behind the house. Since you took that girl in your hands she already began to calm down, perhaps a woman's touch was all she needed? 
“Where was your mother? Was she at work working a long shift? Did something happen to her? Did the bad men–” your thoughts seemed to take a rather pessimistic route, so you had to quickly change it. 
You didn’t know much German. Well, you didn’t know any at all. 
Fuck.
But at that moment you were thanking the heavens that your father watched movies about Hans Kloss or war on a regular basis. You were happy that your father was taught some phrases and somewhere in your subconsciousness he passed them to you.
You sat on the wooden bench somewhere in the garden not far from the building. Then, you placed the child on your lap and began talking to her - mostly in your mother tongue. Then you added some words in German that you knew, like: 
━ Schau, schmetterling! [ger.: Look, a butterfly!] 
Soon you grew more comfortable around the girl named Lina, even though there was a language barrier. Without your knowledge, your legs began to bounce her, pretending she was riding a horse. 
If anyone would point that out later, you would certainly deny it. You, getting soft for a child? No, no, no. 
You were so occupied with entertaining her that you didn’t even notice a looming, black figure in the corner of your eye. Watching the scene from somewhere nearby.
König was standing just next to the doors, leaving against the white plaster on the outside walls. He listened to your attempts to speak German, finding it… adorable? 
Never did he meet a woman in his profession so empathetic and gentle. Especially the one who managed to catch his attention. Let’s be honest, most of them were cold blood murderers and he was a colonel - he couldn’t let himself have such a luxury of having a family. 
Until now.
His imagination began to play a nasty and stupid trick on him - just because he saw you speaking German with a kid. What if it was you to take care of his children? Were your hands usually this delicate? Would you care for him as much?
The tall soldier was intrigued by you and his dreamy stare exposed him for it.
━ Don’t even think about it. ━ Ghost voice snapped him back to the reality. The British soldier emerged from the building the same way the colonel did after the conversation came to an end with Mr. Hausner.
Simon Riley wasn’t a fool. He noticed all the little peaks at his girlfriend other soldiers usually would take, she was in fact a pretty thing. So it didn’t take much to notice that the tall guy from KorTac took a liking of you. Too much liking in Ghost’s opinion. 
━ Verzeihung [ger.: Excuse me] ━ König apologized, flustered slightly by obviousness of the situation. He instantly understood the reference. ━ didn’t know she was… taken. 
━ Yeah ━ British lieutenant scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. His dark irises didn’t even dare to stare at him. His eyes were on you ━ she’s very much taken. 
There was a dead silence between the two of them - for a short moment, before Ghost gave you a heads up. 
━ Y/C, we’re moving. 
The rough and firm tone of Ghost’s voice made you snap back into reality. You were in the middle of something, right? Yet, you almost jumped on that little bench painted in floral patterns. 
━ Coming, lieutenant. ━ You declared quickly, before putting the little girl over your hip again and heading inside of her home. 
Ghost was a few steps ahead and so you had to pass the massive figure of König to go inside again. You pressed the child’s head into your cleavage as she was a little scared of colonel’s hood. 
Well, you would be too, if you saw his cold stare in the middle of the night from under that veil, right?
━ Don’t worry, he just looks scary. He won’t bite. Isn’t that right, sir? ━ You sent him a polite smile as you tried to comfort the petrified girl. Your hand caressing her golden locks.
But he was speechless at the moment. He couldn’t form a simple sentence. A fucking grown ass man. “So fucking pathetic”, he thought to himself. Your lips twisting into a wide smile for him. It wouldn’t be easy for him to erase that sight from his memory. König would have trouble falling asleep that night, thinking of you.
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A/N: ♪ Two big guys and they grab on my thighs ♪
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utterlyotterlyx · 6 months
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Another Love
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Based on this ask
Summary - Azriel knows you'd never leave his side, no matter what, but when his new situationship with Elain takes over his every living moment and he takes advantage of your feelings, you make the only decision you can to save yourself only for him to hurt you in a way you never thought he could.
Warnings - ANGST, mega fluff, swearing, neglect, abuse of feelings, mentions of death, slight grovelling (I’m more of an epic admissions girlie you all know this), lots of sadness.
Word Count - 4.9k oops
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The clock ticked away, idly counting the seconds by, seconds that turned to minutes, and minutes that turned to hours, hours that Azriel had seemingly forgotten about the promise he had made to take you to the theatre.
The cobalt blue bow in your hair, that you had chosen to perfectly match him, swayed sadly as you moved about your room with a heavy heart, hanging up the dress you had bought especially for the occasion and changing into something more comfortable to wallow in self-pity.
It had become normal, his lateness, his nightly visits became later and shorter until they had stopped all together, well, that is until he needed something from you, and you would give him whatever he asked for, no matter how much it hurt you.
You had been a part of the Inner Circle for over 500 years, you were one of the originals, growing up in the camps with Rhys, Cassian and Azriel, Rhys' mother protected you fiercely, and you were very close to Selene, your chosen sister. You were the one they turned to for everything, you were wise and brutal, an incredible warrior and tactician, but also soft and kind; you were the blue break in a sky of storm clouds, you were the spring breeze that cut through the edge of winter, you were everything.
A thing Azriel knew all too well.
It didn't surprise you when Azriel had become fond of Elain, like it didn't surprise you when he had pined after Mor for all those years, completely looking over you in the process. Elain was a soft and fragile thing, she was quiet and graceful, and Azriel was completely besotted by her. A fact that made your heart curse your stupidity, cursing the hope you had willed into it that maybe he would finally see you.
It was no secret that you and Azriel were the closest out of all of the members of your growing family, you had shared 500 years of respect and adoration for one another.
Azriel was by your side when Selene had so brutally lost her life, he had held your hand through the depression and brought you back to life. Azriel knew every single thing that you loved and hated, he knew what every facial expression meant, he knew every tick of your body language which silently conveyed how you were feeling. Azriel knew you better than anyone, even better than he knew himself. The map of you laid etched bare on the back of his hand, a map he used to scour daily, but now barely even glanced at.
It wasn't so one sided.
You knew Azriel better than anything, and you knew a lot. 500 years of life pointed to a rich knowledge. You were the one who cleaned him up after a mission, you're the one who mended his broken bones and washed his turmoil away. You were the one who helped him overcome his insecurities with his hands. You were the one his shadows shot to at family dinners. You were the one who sang him to sleep when his demons had become to much. There was nothing you wouldn't do for Azriel, even if it meant standing on the side-lines until he wanted you.
Moonlight streaked along the floor of your bedroom, cascading across the pale blue of your comforter and drifting along the edges of your antique furniture. The dress you had wanted to wear to the theatre hung off the frame of your mirror, rippling softly in the gentle breeze that entered through the slightly ajar window.
It was silly to feel upset, you knew Azriel didn't owe you any of his time, but you had really thought he would pull through, especially after you had told him how much you missed spending time with him.
Interrupting your damaging thoughts, your door opened to reveal Azriel, who looked annoyed and not at all in knowing of his lateness or the promise that now lay in tatters in your chest. From the look on his face, you knew instantly that Elain was the one who plagued his mind, she was the cause of it every time he had come to see you recently.
Huffing, Azriel trudged to your cream living area, propping his feet up on the antique table you had asked him to be careful with far too many times and sinking into the cushions. He hadn't spared you a glance as he entered, he didn't note his colour in the form of a bow in your perfectly styled hair, he didn't see the sadness in your eyes laced with that naïve hope that he may have turned up to apologise for being late. He didn't see you.
"What happened this time?" You inquired, wrapping yourself tighter into your robe and sliding into the seat beside him, tucking your legs underneath you and propping your head in your palm as you stared at him.
Azriel was beautiful, scars and demons and all, the height of his cheekbones, those hazel oceans of a thousand emotions, the golden skin and arched brows, the curve of his muscles under his second skin, everything about him was intoxicating.
"Lucien," Azriel through his head back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose, "I was so close to kissing her, so close, Y/N. And then Lucien walked in, he ruined it."
The revelation had stung, he'd never admitted to you to being close to kissing Elain before, it was always a myriad of stolen glances and ghosting touches, of hushed words laced with a million differing meanings. But never a kiss.
Azriel paid no mind to the hurt that radiated from you, he knew it was there, he always knew it was there but he couldn't focus on it.
Only an idiot could be blind to the clear feelings you had toward Azriel, the way you looked at him was not the way a friend looked at another friend, no matter how close they were. Azriel knew that he could never truly push you away, no matter how much you were hurting you'd never leave, he knew that, he knew you'd always be there for him to fall into.
It was so awfully wrong, but he lapped in serenity you gave him, in that unwavering loyalty, and he had no intention to stop drinking from your fountain of love.
"Lucien is her mate, Az. He's bound to not like whatever it is that's going on between you," your voice was gentle and full of understanding, your hand rested on his shoulder and he felt any anger disappear almost immediately. That's what your touch alone could do to him, bring him immeasurable peace.
"I know," he sighed, opening his eyes and turning his head to the side to look at you, a small smile tugged at his lips when he noticed how pretty you looked, with your hair parted just how he liked it, and with a bow tied neatly at the back, "I still think that the cauldron was wrong," your face faltered when he immediately continued on his weekly rant, "It gets it wrong sometimes, we know that. It's wrong, it has to be."
All you wanted was for Azriel to be happy, he deserved it more than anyone you knew. Rhys had found Feyre, who you adored tremendously. Cassian had found Nesta, who had become a very good friend of yours. So, you couldn't blame Azriel for believing that Elain was fated to be his, three brothers for three sisters. Even you had to admit that it made sense, The Mother moved in mysterious ways.
You plastered a smile on your face, you vision catching the satin of your new dress moving softly against the breeze, "Maybe it is," Azriel hummed at your words before continuing on, listing everything he adored about Elain.
"I wish sometimes that she was you, you know? That her and I could be like this, with no one watching over us, to be able to spend time alone and do whatever we wanted to do and talk about anything," it was like he didn't realise what he exactly he was wishing for.
Azriel wanted you to be Elain, so that he could have the life he dreamed of. Elain. Not you. Elain.
You weren't good enough for him.
"I hope you get to that point one day, Az," your voice was strained from holding in your strangled sobs, "I'm tired, can we talk about this more tomorrow?"
"Sure," Azriel smiled at you, rising from his seat and heading to the door, standing in the doorway and looking back at your form still glued to your spot, "I like your bow, Y/N. Blue suits you, always has," and then he closed the door behind him, you waited a few moments before letting your sobs flow through your lips and ripping that damned bow from your hair.
Azriel would never see you the way you begged to be seen, and you couldn't sit around and be the one he fell back to when life wasn't going his way.
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More days had passed, more days of Azriel complaining to you, more days of Azriel wishing that Elain and you had switched paths so that he could finally get what he was owed.
Azriel didn't care for your tear stained skin, he didn't care for your weary eyes whenever you spoke of Elain to you.
It was awful that he knew exactly what he was doing, he was abusing your relationship with him, he knew you'd never walk away from him, he knew you'd never be able to put your foot down and tell him to cut it out.
The idea of a mate had him completely obsessed, obsessed to the point that he became blind to what was right in front of him, what had always been in front of him. That blind faith in your loyalty crumbled in his fingers once Rhys had told him that you had decided to purchase your own home in the city, a home away from them all.
"What?" Azriel had asked from his place at the dinner table, bewildered by the news given to them once he had asked where you were.
Nesta knew the exact reason why you had decided you separate yourself from them, you couldn't handle the rejection anymore, and you couldn't begin to heal from the decades worth of heartbreak under the same roof as Azriel and Elain. Nesta knew you held no ill feeling toward her youngest sister, you were too kind for that, you knew it wasn't her fault that Azriel came to you each time something went wrong in their situationship, but that didn't make it hurt any less.
"She left, Az," Mor had cried when Rhys had pulled her to one side that afternoon to tell her that you had decided to move into the home that Rhys had bought you after you had made it clear that you needed your own space, and Rhys had spent an hour trying to convince his cousin that your decision was not impacted by anything any of them did.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Azriel asked his brother who frowned, Feyre grabbed Rhys' hand and squeezed it in hers, "She can't just leave, Rhys."
"She has every right to after everything she's done for all of us, she deserves some peace," Rhys spoke calmly, snapping his fingers and allowing the sentient home to rid the plates and serving dishes from the table.
Azriel was speechless, he felt a frantic pull in his body, one that was poisoned with desperation at the thought of you being anywhere else than under the roof of the River House, the home you had spent a century redecorating and perfecting, paying special attention to each room to make it feel as homely as possible.
He didn't believe it as his chair groaned against the floor and he took off up the stairs toward your room, pushing his way through the doors to find it completely empty. No pictures hanging on the walls, no lines of hooks containing an array of ribbons in different hues, no dresses draped over your mirror, no antique furniture. It was all gone, and the scent of you that was usually so strong that it drowned him was a whisper in the atmosphere.
You had left.
Anger bubbled within him, how could you leave without saying anything? How could you move out of your shared home without a single word? How could you leave him after 500 years at his side?
Azriel flung open the doors to your balcony, a balcony plush with fresh flowers and greenery, he flexed his wings and hurtled himself into the starlit sky, allowing his shadows to peel from his body and search every inch of Velaris until they returned to him reeking of your scent and pulled him down to a small townhouse along the bank of the Sidra.
It was a charming home, pale brickwork, large bay windows, golden light emitting from them, and a large garden full of rich wildlife and botanicals. Your scent flowed from the closed oak door, lavender and honey with a hint of firewood and he found himself following that smell up the winding path until he was knocking on your door.
Golden light flowed from the home as you opened the door. You were dressed in denim overalls that were spatted with cream paint, you hair was loosely bound on the top of your head, and your face was full of uneasy surprise as you looked at him, "Az, what are you doing here?"
Azriel pushed past you and stood in the centre of your hallway, listening to your deep exhale as you closed the door. The space was pretty, it was very you, the walls were half painted cream from their original sage colour that you were obviously painting over, the coving was white and saturated with intricate little sketches of leaves, the carpet was a rich brown and had clearly been laid that day from how interrupted it looked, the only pattern on it being the imprints of your bare feet. Azriel didn't stop his shadows as they extended from him and scoured each part of your new home, nodding with approval and curling around your fingers in understanding adoration.
White sheets were draped over your perfectly placed furniture, to protect it from the paint no doubt, and the same tarp lay at the foot of the walls to protect the carpet. Music drifted softly about the room, and boxes upon boxes of books lay open, with some of them idly placed on shelves to get them out of the way to be sorted properly at a later date.
"It's true? You've really left," he noted the intricately presented kitchen, white cabinets and exposed wooden beams, just like you always wanted.
You rounded him, walking into your new living space, bending down to pick up one of your plant pots before placing it on the window ledge, your back faced him but he could see the pain in your features through the reflection in the window, "Yes, I live here now."
"No. No. You're coming home with me, this is ridiculous," his heart was beating a mile a minute, he couldn't think straight, all that was consuming him was the reality that his fear had come to fruition, that the one person he believed would never leave him had actually walked away.
"I'm not coming back, Azriel," you told him softly, and he saw your shoulders rise and fall with each deep inhale of breath you forced your lungs to take.
Then you turned to him, in the middle of the home that you were trying to make yours, a home away from him, "I thought you'd never leave me. You can't leave me. You're my best friend, I need you."
"No, you don't. You need someone to fall back onto when life isn't going your way, that's all I am to you now," you felt your heart breaking, you felt it shattering in your chest, "I can't be the one you turn to when something becomes between you and Elain. I can't be the one you wish was her. I can't do it anymore, Az. You've taken advantage of me for too long. You promise me the world and show up empty handed. You don't realise I even exist until you need someone to complain to and I just can't do it anymore."
Azriel knew every word you were saying was the truth, he knew he had been using you, but he never expected you to actually walk away from him, you were supposed to love him too much to leave.
Your heart was in the palm of his hands and he knew it, he knew you'd spent hundreds of years falling deeper in love with him each passing day whilst he pined for someone else. The fact of your departure made a bitter monster appear in his mind, he allowed it to tug on the venom in his heart, he allowed it to control him, "Aren't you supposed to be in love with me?"
Azriel watched your eyes widen and a breathless gasp fall from your lips, "You know?"
The Shadowsinger scoffed, "Of course I know. Only a fool wouldn't be able to see it," he saw your face contort into painful sorrow but did nothing to stop himself from saying, "I've known for years. I've known that you'd never leave, you've always been the one that I come to for anything I need and you never complain or tell me to leave. You made it easy to take advantage of you."
A tear slid down your cheek but Azriel made no move to wipe it away, "I want you to leave."
"I'm not leaving without you."
Fire roared in your eyes, "You have no right to command me after what you've knowingly done. I honestly thought that you didn't know, that it was innocent and that you just needed my advice. Now I know that you've willingly abused my kindness, Azriel, you can rot in hell," the tears didn't stop flowing from your eyes, your voice was strained and sore, your chest was so tight that you thought it may stop beating all together, "Get. Out!"
Azriel had left you then, he had left your door wide open and soared into the skies, leaving you in the home that was now tainted by his deceit.
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It had been months since Azriel had seen you, Nesta and Feyre had practically forbid him from going anywhere near your home, that being from the land or sky. But that didn't stop him from allowing his shadows to slither under your front door or linger in the streets, he was desperate to know how you were.
Azriel hated himself for what he had said to you, he hated himself for taking advantage of you. In some way he tried to justify it, you were too good for him, he didn't want to ruin you, but it was clear that he already had.
Your absence had left a void that no one could fill, not even Elain despite her efforts, even the thought of her made his stomach drop and sickness swirl to the point where he couldn't bring himself to be around her. All Elain did was remind him of how he failed you.
Azriel had tried writing to you since you wouldn't see him, he gave the letters to Feyre and Nesta, the latter of which still saw your daily, and grew colder toward him with each passing moment. Even Cassian did nothing to hide his disappointment in him, and Rhys had some very telling words to express once Feyre had told him the truth of what had happened in your home that night.
Nothing was working, things with Elain were strained and difficult, the problems between them so raw and everyone's opinions so disapproving that it created a distance between them that was unmanageable.
Then it dawned on him that nothing was working with Elain because it wasn't meant to. The person who was meant to be his had been under his nose for 500 years, and now wanted nothing to do with him.
Cassian had pulled Azriel from his thoughts by stepping through the threshold of his room, "Are you coming to training?"
"Tell me how to fix it," Azriel lifted his head from his hands and turned his head toward Cassian who sighed in reply, moving to the bed to sit beside Azriel, "I need to know how to fix it."
"Only you can figure that out, Az," Cassian spoke to him, throwing his arm over Azriel's shoulder before continuing, "Y/N loves you Az, she has for 500 years. A few months apart won't change that. You're really fucking stupid for this though, she's the only one of us who knew the exact right thing to do and say every time. Y/N deserves more than the basic requirements of respect, she deserves the world in the palm of her hand and a person who loves her more than he loves himself. Don't bother her unless you can do that."
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It was the anniversary of Selene's death, and the day hadn't gotten any easier for you to deal with.
Rhys and you had made a habit of doing something together each year, though, Azriel was the one to accompany you when Rhys had gone Under the Mountain. The location was sacred to you, you and Rhys would bundle yourselves up in blankets and watch the sun set over the Sidra, you'd rehash old memories and stories, ones that you both knew the script to by heart, but that never got old.
Your High Lord had tried to convince you to come home, but didn't push you when you had told him no. Your life had began to feel rather empty without the family antics that consumed your day-to-day life.
"I miss her," you had told him sadly, your head rested on his shoulder as the sun tipped her toes into the water in the distance, the sky grew darker each passing minute.
Rhys hummed, holding you closer to his side, "So do I," he replied with equal sadness, you had all grown up together, you basically were his sister by blood, and when you both had lost her, it only made him clutch to you more, "She'd nail Az's balls to the wall for sure."
A laugh passed through your lips before it died in your throat, you had done your best to not think about Azriel despite him owning your soul, you had done your best to heal from what he had done, but even then, you missed him more than anything, "How is he?"
It was the first time you had asked about him since before you had moved to your new home which was now fully decorated and yours, thanks to Rhys, Feyre and Nesta who made it their priority to help you settle, "He's-" Rhys couldn't lie to you, he was never able to even when you were younger, "-Not great. He misses you, he hates himself for what he said to you that night."
"I'd hate myself too," you had hummed, shifting to stand on the stone ledge where you and Rhys had sat, wanting a better view of the sun as it began to disappear against the horizon.
A familiar cold kiss pecked at your ankles and you looked down to see those shadows you had missed so dearly meandering around where you stood. Cedar entered your lungs and you shivered in painful delight as his warmth curled around your back.
"Y/N," his voice was deep and rough, it was pleading, you looked to your side and found that Rhys had vanished. That damn meddler. "Please look at me."
Not able to say no to that voice, you indulged the Shadowsinger and turned on the balls of your feet to peer upward at him. Azriel had his wings neatly tucked behind his back, his hands dangled at his sides, and his head was hung low. He looked terrible.
"Why are you here?"
Azriel clenched his jaw, he didn't expect you to be happy to see him, but it didn't stop the self hatred from growing in every single cell of his body, "I know how hard today is for you, I just wanted to see if you were alright."
"Well I'm fine, so you can go now," you made a move to walk away, to take the path down the edge of the Sidra to your home which had become your haven away from reality.
Though, you didn't get very far, perhaps two steps before Azriel's fingers curled around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks and pulling you back to him, "Y/N, I don't even know how to apologise in the way that you deserve. I don't know how to say sorry and make you feel like I see and hear you."
"What I did was disgusting, I hate myself for it. I never should have taken advantage of you like that, you've done everything to help me the entire time that I've known you and I ruined everything for someone I don't even want. I've always wanted a mate, you know that, and I got so carried away with wanting it that I completely ignored the only person who's ever truly loved me for me despite all of the horrid things I have done. Elain isn't you, Y/N. No one compares to you. No one makes me feel safe like you do, no one makes me feel alive like you do, and no one can make me hope for death by their void like you do."
"I am yours, Y/N. I always have been. I couldn't be the reason you ever got hurt, I couldn't be the one to risk extinguishing that glorious fire in your soul. You are the only one I cannot bear to lose, the thought of losing you terrifies me, it always has, and instead of protecting you, I took advantage of you and pushed you away because I would rather hurt someone else with everything that I am than hurt you with just a a part of it."
"I'm so stupid for ignoring you, I'm a prick for using you as my security blanket rather than let you in, you know me better than I know myself, you love me more than I could ever imagine, and it terrified me because I couldn't let myself love you. I couldn't let myself taint you."
Azriel lifted his hands, cupping your face in his palms and you could see every inch of despair within him, that conflicted flame dancing within his soul, "I'm not asking you to forgive me, I don't think I will ever be able to forgive myself after what I've done to you. I'm not asking for anything from you. I just need you to know that no matter how severe your storm, I promise I won't leave your side, I'll stay with you through the howling winds that whip my cheeks raw and red. I will stay and hold you when the night leaves you shivering and give you space when when your searing heat pushes you into a fiery rage. I will stay and love you in whatever way you crave, whether that be from next to you or from wherever you cast me to."
"Azriel-" tears flowed freely from his eyes and you knew he meant every word he was saying. Every single word was being plucked from the core of his essence.
"I know that you're scared, and that you don't trust me. I'm scared too. But you're the only one I can face love with because I only want to feel it with you. At the end of the day I want it to be you and me, I want your early mornings and late nights, I want you on your good days and bad. I will never stop wanting you. I will never stop needing you filling my lungs like oxygen and giving me life."
Azriel dropped his forehead onto yours, and you felt your own cheeks dampening from your own tears at his words, "I love you, Y/N. I will always love you, even if you don't want me to, even if you decide to walk away from me I will not stop loving you. I am so thankful for you, and I know I haven't shown that, but if you give me one more chance, I will show you exactly the man you have made me into. I will give you the world you have always dreamed of. My soul is yours until you stop loving me. Please. Please."
"I can't stop loving you, Az. I've tried but I can't and I don't want to," his thumbs wiped your tears away and you found yourself reaching to rest your fingers on the marred flesh around his wrists, "One more chance. Don't fuck it up."
Azriel pressed his lips to your forehead, relishing in your warmth as you bundled into his chest, "You're mine."
"Take me home, Az."
"Yours or mine?"
You grinned against his chest, "How about ours?"
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Authors Note
I really hope this does the ask justice x
Alternate ending incoming 👀👀
981 notes · View notes
luffington · 1 month
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private party ♡
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➤ summary: It's too goddamn hot out, so Doflamingo surrenders his strength to join you in the pool. (18+)
➤ pairing: donquixote doflamingo x afab!reader
➤ word count: 2.5k
➤ warnings: dom!doffy, pool sex, belly bulge, exhibitionism, getting caught, degradation, established relationship (kinda), fem reader
➤ notes: i am so normal about the doffy pool scene where baby 5 is introduced. i barely ever think about it i swear.... also this is my softest doffy fic and he's still SO unhinged >:3
NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu
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Dressrosa’s famously perfect weather had been overtaken by a mid-summer heat wave, and today was brutal. The sweltering sun turned the air hazy with heat. Not a single cloud stained the bright blue sky to provide shade from its burning rays. Staying outside for more than ten minutes was a daunting task. Nearly every member of the Donquixote Family was staying cool inside the spacious castle with its doors closed and curtains drawn.
Fortunately, the palace courtyard was an oasis.
An oversized pink flamingo float bounced against the side of the oval-shaped pool as you swam laps straight down the middle, keeping most of your body underwater. The scent of sunscreen and chlorine filled the air. Your lover (for lack of a better word) reclined on a padded couch, sipping a yellowish-pink tropical cocktail decorated with a paper parasol. His signature pink coat had obviously been discarded, but so had every item of clothing besides a tiny pair of shorts. Tan lines had no place on his godly figure.
The king of Dressrosa unashamedly admired you as he sunbathed. Even behind his sunglasses, you felt his lusty gaze trained on the way your body moved – and your skimpy little crimson bikini. You intentionally put on a show for him, arching your back as you dove underwater and making sure your tiny bottoms were pulled a bit too tight against your ass. 
Both of you were completely alone. Doflamingo had even sent away the servants who periodically refilled his drink and brought out poolside snacks. You weren’t entirely sure why he chose to keep the pool after he became king – the only ones who really used it were you and the women who hung around Señor Pink. The Family’s Devil Fruit users safely stayed dry on the surrounding lounge chairs, and Dellinger hated chlorine. Doflamingo did love his pool parties, though.
Getting lonely and bored, you swam to the edge of the pool, emerging near Doflamingo’s feet and wiping water out of your eyes. The blonde placed your own drink on the ground in front of you. 
“You jealous?” You grinned cheekily, sipping the chilled liquid through a neon pink straw. “It must suck to not be able to swim, especially on a day like today. The water is soooo refreshing.”
Doflamingo chuckled at your boldness. “I’ll live.”
“I’ve never even seen you go in.” He was certainly good at keeping you company while you swam, though, and his flamingo float was ideal for cuddling (and less appropriate activities). “You won’t drown in a few feet of water.”
“Water takes away my powers, baby.”
“Boooo.” You splashed a small wave onto his hairy legs. “You can be without your strings for five minutes. Get in here.”
If anyone else did that to him, he would’ve forced them on their knees and made them beg for mercy. Luckily, he found your bratty playfulness more amusing than irritating. Certainly better than an overly passive, demure lover. And the pool did look nice, beautifully shimmering under the relentless sun. It was even more tempting now that cool droplets of water ran down his calves.  
To your surprise, your lover sighed exaggeratedly but actually stood from the couch, stripping down to his underwear and revealing his half-hard clothed bulge. As you excitedly went to grab a blow-up beach ball on the other side of the pool, you could’ve sworn you felt something tugging at the strap tying the bikini around your neck.
Doflamingo kept a cautious hand on the railing as he strolled down the pool steps, hissing in relief at the cold water. Strength be damned, this felt incredible. He kneeled down and reclined backwards to submerge his enormous body, though he kept his head above water, and soaked off the undignified layer of sticky sweat coating his skin. Thank fuck his throne birthright wasn’t on some desolate winter island. 
You trotted back over to him while tossing the ball in your hands. “Doffy, I think my top is coming undone. Can you fix it?” 
Innocently turning your back to him and holding your hair away from your neck. He grabbed the thin red strings pitifully slipping out of their knot, but instead of tying them, the blonde let them fall past your shoulders. Before you could react, his big hands forced their way under your bikini cups to openly grope your tits. 
“Isn’t this what you wanted, pet?” He giggled maniacally as he tugged at your nipples. Being on his knees evened out your height difference a bit, so he curled his giant body over yours, his hard abs pressed flush against your back. Kneading your breasts with no gentleness, squeezing them like stress balls. “Getting all wet for me? Teasing me with this pathetic excuse for a bathing suit?”
You bit your lip – he wasn’t wrong, but you did want to play volleyball with him first. The ball fell from your hands and sadly floated away. 
Doflamingo pulled off your top and carelessly tossed it aside. “This tiny thing leaves nothing to the imagination, it’s fucking disgusting. I want you to wear it every day.” He pressed a quick kiss to your shoulder then bit down as he harshly twisted your peaked nipples. “But just for me.”
“P-Please, Doffy…” You wiggled your hips, squirming against him.
“Needy slut.” Laughing giddily, he licked across your teeth then plunged the wet muscle into your mouth. Pineapple juice and expensive white rum lingered on his tongue. One hand cradled your jaw to keep your lips locked as the other trailed down your tummy underwater, slipping under the waistband of your bottoms. 
Doflamingo teasingly caressed your mound then harshly pinched your clit, then tugged at the sensitive nub. “That’s for splashing me earlier.”
“Shit, I’ll splash you again,” you chuckled, letting your head fall back against his shoulder.
“You’re such a damn masochist, making me get creative with my punishments.” You nearly folded in half when his long fingers ran through your slit, but his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you upright. His free hand went back to caressing your tits. The blonde giggled in delight when he felt the slick between your legs – you were so responsive, so easy. “This doesn’t feel like pool water. You’re all worked up from a little kiss?”
“You’re all worked up from watching me swim, pervert.” Grinding your ass against his massive bulge to emphasize your point.
The blonde slapped your tit and you jerked against his tight hold. “It’s a good thing your bratty mouth looks so pretty wrapped around my cock, since you’re starting to piss me off.”
Maybe your alcohol-induced cheekiness had reached its limit. Doflamingo’s infatuation with you made him no less terrifying. 
He wasn’t in the mood for long and drawn-out foreplay, though he normally adored seeing you break and beg for his cock with tears in your eyes. But your tiny cunt couldn’t even take his tip without loosening it up first. Being blessed with a perfect body, godlike height, and a monster cock was such a curse.
Resting his chin in the crook of your neck, the blonde observed the way his nimble fingers expertly moved inside you. His string abilities were gone but he still worked his puppeteering magic inside you, scissoring your wet walls apart and prodding at your sensitive spot. The adorably wanton whines falling from your lips made his dick twitch. 
Once he decided you were ready, he easily flipped you around to face him and sat down on the pool steps with you in his lap. Doflamingo freed his heavy cock, letting it spring up and bounce against his abdomen underwater. Instead of taking off your bikini bottoms, he simply pushed them to the side to expose your cunt.
“I’ve never fucked in a pool before,” the blonde chuckled, grabbing underneath your thighs and easily manhandling you into position. Even with his strength drained away, he was still much stronger than the average person – those sculpted muscles weren’t just for show. “You better feel grateful, darling. I hardly have any ‘first time’s left.”
The thick tip of his cock forced its way inside, then a harsh thrust made your eyes roll back into your head. Water resistance made the movement less intense than he intended, but several inches of his massive length were snugly inside your pussy. He continued pulling you down until a pretty bulge protruded from your stomach, though he still wasn’t fully sheathed in you. Doflamingo sighed in relief and reclined back on his forearms, submerged in the turquoise water up to his pecs. “Go on, please your king.”
You braced your palms right above his flashy gold nipple piercings, found your footing, then started riding his dick at a slow pace, feeling every vein and ridge drag against your inner walls. The water rippled and lightly splashed around you with every movement. 
Doflamingo traced the outline of your lips, and you batted your eyelashes coquettishly as you sucked his finger into your mouth. Definitely a mistake – you pulled away with a scrunched up face and tried to spit out the overpowering taste of chlorine. He cackled and shoved two digits all the way down your throat, twisting them around to hear you gag. 
The king was in paradise. Summer sun beating down on his face, cool water coating his tanned skin, and his favorite toy bouncing on his cock. He was getting bored with the slow grinding of your hips against his pelvis, but he was too relaxed to do anything about it. Getting out of the pool and back into the unbearable heat was the last thing on his mind. 
Doflamingo grabbed the meat of your ass to abruptly take over control of your movements. He bobbed you up and down, admiring the way your tits jiggled before leaning forward to suck a nipple into his mouth. Fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled him closer, gripping tighter when he abused your tits even more.
He rubbed the outline of his cock in your stomach then pressed down on it. You bit back a debauched moan. An angry vein popped in his forehead before he grabbed your cheeks and squeezed meanly. “Don’t hide your cute noises from me.”
“S-sorry – mmmh!” You choked on your own spit when he suddenly slammed balls deep into you, his gigantic cock molding your insides to take him perfectly. 
The sound of a door opening echoed throughout the courtyard. You froze and anxiously sought out the source. Diamante emerged into the sunlight, his red eye makeup smudged by sweat and using his hand to fan himself. You leaned forward against Doflamingo to cover your breasts, not wanting to ignite his possessive nature, but made no other move. The blonde didn’t even flinch.
Diamante squinted in confusion. Sun-sparkled water blurred and distorted your lower halves, but what you were doing was incredibly obvious. “Doffy, why the hell are you in the pool?”
His boss was buried in your guts and that was what he was concerned about? 
Doflamingo grinned. “The water actually feels great. You should try it – oh, but not now. I’m a little busy.” The blonde jerked his hips harshly up into you, making you keen. Pink sunglass lenses stayed trained on his friend in an almost challenging way. “What do you want?”
The elite officer just huffed, making you believe that this probably wasn’t the first time he saw Doflamingo like this. An odd pang of jealousy struck you at the thought. He never caught you.
“It’s nothing serious, just find me when you’re done.” He snickered as he stepped back inside, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll keep Dellinger and Sugar away from here. Have fun.”
When the door slammed shut, Doflamingo pressed his lips to your ear and whispered, “I felt your pussy get tighter when he looked at us. You filthy whore. You like being watched? Or do you like being owned by me?” He sounded ecstatic. “I’ll fuck you on camera and broadcast it to the entire country if that makes you happy.”
A shiver ran down your spine. “That’s t-terrible.”
“No, it’s a fucking good idea. Then everyone’ll know who the prettiest girl in Dressrosa belongs to.” His surprisingly sweet comment was punctuated by his hips bucking into you, shoving the head of his cock insistently against your cervix. 
Doflamingo flexed his thighs and began using you like a fleshlight, setting a fast and rough pace while letting out incredibly erotic groans. His tanned skin looked irresistible, so you leaned forward to mouth along his thick neck and then kiss him passionately. Doflamingo eagerly reciprocated, rewarding you by pressing his thumb against your clit to rub circles against it. 
“My perfect little toy,” he panted between kisses, a long string of saliva hanging off the tip of his lengthy tongue. “Such a good girl, so eager to serve me. I couldn’t ask for anything more.” 
Something about the intense heat or the negative effects of water seemed to bring out his more romantic side – though there was nothing romantic about the way his dick bullied its way inside you. You gripped onto his shoulders for dear life, feeling your cunt throb around him. 
“Doffy, ‘m so close, p-please let me…” 
Beautiful eyes peeked out from under his sunglasses – lust-blown, predatory, and crazed. “Cum for me, pet.”
Lips slammed against yours as the building pressure inside you exploded. Your cunt gushed and soaked his cock in your juices, stars flashing behind your eyes. Doflamingo obsessively swallowed your moans, rubbing your clit through the aftershocks of your orgasm. He rutted his hips like a feral dog before he felt his balls tighten. Thick ropes of cum sprayed deep inside your walls and filled you to the brim. Through hazy eyes, you noticed how divine he looked at his peak – damp blonde hair sticking to his forehead and sun reflecting off water droplets coating his skin. Head thrown back in bliss, plush lips parted and letting out a heavenly, whorish moan.
Breathless and giddy laughter snapped you out of your trance. “Whatcha looking at, baby?” His cock was softening, but you felt it twitch from narcissistic delight.
You shook your head to clear your mind, dipped your hands in the pool, then ran your damp fingers through his hair. He instantly relaxed into your touch, sighing contentedly. “I told you it’s refreshing.” 
“And you were fucking right. Maybe I should use the pool more – it’s not like anyone is stupid enough to attack me in my own palace.” Strong, scarred arms wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed you tightly against him. Doflamingo hummed happily, then released you and nodded towards the couch. A grin never left his face and his shaded eyes never left yours. “Be nice and grab our drinks, then get right back here. Our private pool party isn’t over.”
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582 notes · View notes
kemistre · 1 year
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εïз┊𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 — feat. sano 'manjiro' mikey, ryuguji 'draken' ken, mitsuya takashi, baji keisuke, matsuno chifuyu, hanagaki takemichi, kisaki tetta
synopsis. how the the toman boys react when you fall asleep on them
— content warnings. draken picks up the reader, slight spoilers?, kisaki — word count. 1, 185
εïз┊author's note. hehe i haven't read/watched tokrev in so long!!! i kinda miss all these boys i'm not going to lie! chifuyu and draken are still my favs <//3
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εïз┊s. manjiro
he was sitting on the couch, relaxing with takemichi, draken, and you, along with a few other of takemichi’s buddies who were playing some sort of card game on the floor. you sat next to mikey, the exhaustion of your day finally settling in. the dark bags under your eyes grew more prominent as you leaned to the side, your head hitting a certain someone’s shoulder. his eyes were immediately on you, scanning over your tired figure, searching for anything that could be wrong. but once he’d concluded there was nothing wrong with you except how tired you were, he shoved you off his shoulder, making you open your eyes that had just closed moments before. everyone in the room was shocked, especially draken who looked like he was oh so close to punching his best friend. though he’d calmed down when mikey decided to lay on your lap instead, instantly falling into his own slumber as you rolled your eyes, laying your head against the arm rest of the couch falling asleep with your boyfriend in your arms.
εïз┊r. ken
he sat in front of the meeting place of toman, glancing around, remembering everything that had happened with the small, confined area. you were right next to him, sitting in silence and just reminiscing about the past. thinking about everything made your head spin, so much had happened at this tiny area, but it impacted every single person in toman greatly. you hadn’t noticed how much you had been swaying, moving around trying to keep yourself awake, but draken sure did. “hey,” hearing his voice after so much silence made you flinch, though you slowly locked eyes with him. “you alright?” you hummed, you voice hoarse with the exhaustion of your day. “m’ just fine, ken.” but no matter how many times you could’ve said it, he just did not believe you, and so, he stood upon his feet and leaned down, picking you up in his arms as he sighed. “you need sleep y/n.” he spoke, walking away from where you’d just been sitting for so long. he figured he’d take you to whoever’s house was closed, just to get you into a bed and resting as soon as possible.
εïз┊m. takashi
he leaned against his elbows that stretched behind him as he lay in the grass, you snuggling close to him for the warmth he radiated. the nighttime had been cold, the breeze making it that much worse as you lay under the moon, gazing up at the twinkling spots in the sky. this was truly the first time the two of you could relax together in so long, and it was nice, refreshing almost. he smiled, just knowing he was finally enjoying his alone time with you, and as he went to say something to you, he’d realized that your eyes were not only shut, but you were shivering. so, without another thought, he did his best to take his jacket off without you waking up, or being distrubed whatsoever. a gentle kiss was placed on your head as he finally got the jacket comfortably on you, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer than before. “sweet dreams my love.”
εïз┊b. keisuke
he let his head hang from where he sat on the recently rained out concrete, his hands behind him the only thing holding him up. he sighed, watching the grey clouds roll by, completely covering any blue that had once taken over the sky. it might’ve been that he had simply spaced out, not realizing you had approached him in any way. so, when you laid your head on his shoulder, he flinched, ready to fight. though, upon seeing it was you, he just froze, not knowing how to react. he had finally relaxed into you after you had taken his hand into your own, letting him know you were there, guiding him along as you’d always done. his tense shoulders had relaxed, giving you a much comfortable surface to rest your head upon. 
εïз┊m. chifuyu
he sighed, the long day he had hovering over his head as a rain cloud would on a rainy day. he was tired, exhausted if you will. he hadn’t felt like this in a long time, so tired and broken. his eyes seemed to lose their shine he had just recently gotten back, but now, as he sat near the gravestone as his former comrade, that emotionless looking boy he used to be grew on him once again. but he didn’t have the motivation to fix it, or change. at least, that was the case until you took a seat right by his side, leaning your head against his shoulder. his heart seemingly skipped a beat, his eyes widened in a state of shock from you and your presence alone. he felt at ease, though the bags under his eyes didn’t go away just that easily. he had decided, that maybe just one more time, he could get comfortable. comfortable enough to trust someone again, and that someone was you. he leaned into you as you wrapped your arms around him, his eyes glossing over and him hugging you tightly in return. “thank you..” was all he could mumble out without the tears flowing down his cheeks. 
εïз┊h. takemichi
he could only stutter when you laid your head on his chest, closing your eyes in the process. no words actually came out of his mouth either, just mouth movements of absolute shock and embarrassment. he was blushing, and blushing hard. his entire face was engulfed in a deep red, from his chin to the tips of his ears. “y-y/n..?” but by the time he even spoke a word, you were already fast asleep on his chest. the more he took the time to breathe, calm down a bit, he realized just how warm you were against him. maybe just in general, you were warm, sweet, kind in your own way. he smiled, his blush turning into one simply dusting his cheeks in pink as he positioned himself to get more comfortable on the couch where now the two of you laid.
εïз┊k. tetta
he stared intently at your approaching figure as you sat on the couch beside him, you weight immediately shifting onto his shoulder. he tsked, trying to shake you off. it got to a point where he was so close to just pushing you off of him, wanting to be left alone as soon as possible, but as his hand neared your face, he couldn’t help it when every movement in his body stopped, his eyebrows furrowing. his tenseness became relaxed as his hand lowered. he slowly brushed a strand of hair hanging down across your face to the side, letting him fully see your peaceful expression. for some reason, it made him wish he could, for once, have a night of peaceful sleep as you are now. he wanted to not have any worries, though he knew that was simply impossible. but for the time, it wouldn’t hurt anyone to let you stay as you were for just a few more minutes.
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